Your Love is the Best Sound
by scarletsailor
Summary: Friendship with Chloe Beale is not optional. Falling in love with her is even less so. High school AU
1. jump

**A/N:** I decided to toy around with the little-siblings-are-best-friends AU and this happened. Enjoy.

* * *

_Damn my parents_, Beca thinks. _Damn my parents to hell_.

"Mom tells me that if you keep making those faces, your face will freeze like that," Jesse says, tugging insistently on her hand. "Then, you'll be ugly forever."

Beca grits her teeth together and clenches her fist to keep from smacking her little brother over the head. "Well, _you've_ seemed to manage just fine the first seven years of your life. I think I'll be fine." She brushes her hair out of her face and huffs out a breath.

Beca Mitchell is 16 years old. She should be out partying with friends over summer vacation like a normal teenager, but she's never been all that normal. Or had a lot of friends. Her parents bestowed upon her the responsibility of looking after her bratty brother Jesse. He wanted to visit his friend that Beca hadn't bothered to learn the name of and Beca had to walk him to said friend's house due to the fact that their parents had taken the car for a romantic road trip for two.

"Come on, Beca!" Jesse hops and tugs on her hand again, nearly throwing off her balance.

"Slow down, Jesse!"

"But we're almost there! Aubrey's been waiting for a million years!"

"Well, then I'm sure she can wait a few more minutes," Beca grumbles. "Do you even know where we're going?" They had been walking for at least ten minutes and she didn't even know their destination.

"Yes! It's down the road onto the next block, two lefts, and then a right! Come on!"

Beca raises an eyebrow. "Someone's eager," she remarks. "Do you have a crush on this girl or something?"

Jesse goes red in the face. "No! Shut up about it!"

"Alright, alright, you weirdo." She shuts up but not without a smirk.

It takes another good fifteen minutes before they actually reach their destination. Aubrey's house is a baby blue color with tall sunflowers in the front yard and a classic white picket fence. It's all very picturesque and it's almost enough to disgust Beca. She grimaces as they climb the front steps, Jesse running ahead of her and ringing the doorbell about a million times.

Beca stops dead in her tracks when the door opens.

A redhead with blue eyes brighter than the color of the house stands in the doorway, her smile unfailingly brilliant. "Hi!" she says cheerfully. "You must be Jesse! I'm Chloe, Aubrey's older sister." She sticks her hand out for Jesse to shake and Beca sees his faithful feelings for Aubrey falter for a moment. Eventually, he does come to his senses and shakes her hand. "Come on in! Aubrey's waiting for you in the kitchen."

"Thanks," Jesse says shortly before running past her into the house. He nearly trips in his haste and Beca hears a high-pitched voice greet him from somewhere inside.

Chloe turns to Beca. "Hi," she says, smiling again. "You must be Jesse's older sister." She holds her hand out again and Beca reluctantly steps forward to shake it. "It's nice to meet you."

"You, too," Beca says politely.

"And your name is?"

"Beca," she says, "Beca Mitchell."

Chloe nods. "Chloe Beale," she responds. She tilts her head to the side, resembling a confused puppy for a moment. "You… you go to South High, don't you? I've seen your face before."

Beca frowns. She thought that she'd remember a face like Chloe's. "I do," she confirms. "I didn't know you did, too."

"Yep! I'm a senior."

"Junior," Beca says. The silence quickly becomes awkward and Beca turns to leave. "I'll pick up Jesse in about two hours."

"Wait," Chloe says suddenly, "don't you want to stay?"

"I've got stuff to do." That was a lie. She didn't have any plans for all of summer, unless Fat Amy planned on dragging her off on one of her impromptu adventures that usually involved the cops in one way or another.

"Oh." Chloe looks disappointed and Beca feels unreasonably bad. Like she kicked Chloe's puppy or something. "I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah." Beca nods. "See you later."

* * *

The little twerps, as Beca likes to call them, have play dates every other day. Beca gets a fair amount of exercise walking Jesse to the Beale household. She even grows the slightest bit more tan due to the fact that Jesse likes to walk over at noon. Even worse, their parents scold Beca for not getting out of the house like her little brother. Beca offered to call Fat Amy up for another "wild night on the town" and that shut them up pretty quickly. They still like to make not-so-subtle hints that are easily ignored.

Every day is the same. Beca walks Jesse over, much faster than the first time. Chloe usually answers the door, but sometimes Aubrey does, with Jesse running inside as soon as he can. Beca always leaves with the same "I'll be back in [insert any number here] hours" before Chloe can invite her inside.

Beca honestly hadn't anticipated _this_, especially after brushing Chloe off so many times.

"Can I get your number?" Chloe asks quickly one day. "Just in case I need to call you about Jesse or something?"

Beca pulls her headphones down, _Titanium_ playing for a few seconds before she pauses it. "If you need me for anything, Jesse can call me on his phone. He has my number. Why a seven year old needs an iPhone, I'll never know, but yeah." She shrugs and walks away.

Beca figures out later that either Chloe steals the number from Jesse's phone or Jesse gives Chloe her number because she gets a text from an unknown number an hour later that reads: _titanium is my lady jam. that song really builds_

Beca's knee jerks into her desk.

It can only be from one person.

She's surprised to find herself smiling at the text, even if she's a little grossed out _and_ in pain.

So, Beca saves the contact to her phone. Just in case.

* * *

Summer is almost half over when Fat Amy demands that Beca get out of the house. She shows up at 7 PM with a handful of cash and her favorite denim jacket, washed and ready to be dirtied again. Beca opens the door, cringing at the faint sunlight still in the sky, scowling when Amy accuses her of being a vampire. Before Beca has the chance to refuse or come up with an excuse not to go, her parents shove her out the door with her jacket and a "Have fun, sweetie!"

She's getting really tired of their shit.

"Can I go home now?" Beca asks for the eighth time that night. They're at a carnival: a real carnival with a Ferris wheel, kiddie rides, dumb games with stuffed prizes, and loud music blasting from all directions at once. Little kids have nearly tripped her three times and she's watched at least five people throw up, from candy or alcohol, she doesn't know. The music gave her a pounding headache at least a half an hour ago.

"You're really putting a damper on this whole 'fun' thing, Mitchell," Fat Amy says around a mouthful of popcorn. "I think you're doing it wrong."

"I don't think I should be _doing_ it at all," Beca grumbles.

"Oh, come on, Frodo," Amy whines, not-so-gently patting Beca on the back and dumping her popcorn in favor of her cotton candy, "lighten up. I know you're probably too short for most of the rides here, but there's gotta be something fun for you to do."

"Beca!" a shockingly familiar voice exclaims from behind them.

Beca turns and is met with the one and only Chloe Beale. She smiles crookedly, ignoring the suspicious stare that Fat Amy's directing at her. "Chloe, hi."

"That," Amy says, pointing conspicuously at Chloe. "That's something fun for you to do."

Beca nudges her sharply with her elbow and swats her hand away. "Shut up, _Patricia_."

"Hey!" Chloe runs up to Beca, grabs her hands, and drags her forward until their foreheads are almost touching. Beca bends back reflexively, but she can still feel Chloe's breath on her face. Contrary to what Beca suspects, there's no trace of alcohol in her scent. It's, in a way, a relief, though it worries Beca how this is _sober_ behavior. "It's so great to see you! I didn't think you'd be here, to be honest."

"Neither did I," Beca says pointedly, giving Amy the side-eye. "I was _coerced_."

"Hey, you know how I feel about the big words, Shawshank," Amy says, stuffing another handful of cotton candy into her mouth. "You can't pull that shit on me when I'm on a sugar high."

"In addition to a regular high."

"That, too. Okay, I'll leave you two lovers to it." Fat Amy looks to Chloe. "Be sure to look after this one, will you?" she says, gesturing to Beca. Beca gives her a _what the hell are you doing you're leaving me alone_ Beca Mitchell signature look. "She can't survive without isolation every two hours and make sure that she's properly fed. Her diet mainly consists of Red Bull and Girl Scout cookies—"

"Goodbye, Amy," Beca says, suddenly eager for her friend to be gone.

Chloe laughs. "Don't worry, Amy. I'll take good care of Beca." She smiles wickedly with an exaggerated wink to match.

"Use protection!" Amy shouts as she's dragged away by a guy Beca vaguely recognizes.

"Stay out of jail this time!" Beca yells back at her.

"Your friend's interesting," Chloe says, smiling.

Beca huffs out a laugh. "Interesting is a good word for Fat Amy."

"Come on." Chloe surprises Beca with a strong grip on her elbow. "Let's go have fun."

* * *

"So, are you having fun?"

It seems like a strange question when the answer is painfully obvious. Still, Beca decides to humor Chloe with an answer, anyway. "Not really."

"Well, I'm here," Chloe says simply, "so now you have to."

Beca raises an eyebrow. "Is that a rule—?"

"Yes."

Another laugh. Score 1 for Chloe Beale. She smiles proud to herself.

They've been walking around the carnival, hosted at the local shopping center, for twenty minutes. Chloe's been doing most of the talking and she's gotten a total of sixteen words out of Miss Beca Mitchell. It's not much, but Chloe calls it progress. Beca has walls with 'STAY OUT' written all over them, but Chloe's never been one to give up easily; she's undeterred and stubborn. If blowing those walls down with dynamite won't work, then she'll settle for a slow process of chipping away at stones, one by one.

"You don't have to keep me company, you know," Beca says, kicking at a pebble by her feet. "I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself."

"I think 'big' is kind of pushing it."

So, Beca pushes _Chloe_ and the tension in the air is somewhat defused.

"I know that I don't have to keep you company," Chloe states, "but I want to. This carnival only comes around twice a year. What kind of person would I be if I let you go without having fun?"

"A good person," Beca says. "A good, decent person."

Chloe laughs. "I can't wait until you realize how much of a good person I'm _not_," she sighs.

She says this as though she's going to become some kind of constant in Beca's life. It's presumptuous and straightforward and there's a temptation for Beca to turn around and run. Something keeps her there and she would rather not think about what that something is.

"For some reason, I doubt that, but I'll take your word for it if you give me a ride home," Beca says before she can stop herself. She's never shied away from being outright rude to anyone before, but, as little as she knows about Chloe Beale, Beca knows that she's sensitive. "Not that I'm not having a good time or anything, but I should probably get home and stuff…"

Chloe side-eyes her, eyebrow raised skeptically. Thankfully, she seems more amused than offended. "I'll make you a deal," she offers. "You play a game with me and I'll give you a ride home."

Beca narrows her eyes in suspicion. "You swear?"

"Unless you wanna come home with me by the time the night's over." The redhead winks with a little shake of her hips and Beca's throat constricts. What is it with this girl and winking?

"Deal," she squeaks out.

Chloe vigorously shakes her hand and then they're at a booth adorned with about a thousand different stuffed animals. The pimply teenage boy running the booth looks startled when Chloe smacks a ten dollar bill into his hands and tosses a yellow plastic gun into Beca's fumbling arms. And the game is on.

The display before them is a series of various cups color coordinated into resembling a target. From what Beca can gather, the goal is to knock down the single gold cup in the very center. She watches Chloe take several shots, knocking over blue, green, and the occasional silver cups. The gold cup remains untouched.

"You suck at this," Beca comments bluntly. As much as she tries (which isn't very hard), she's unable to keep a smile off of her face.

Chloe gives an insulted scoff. "You think you can do better?" she challenges.

Beca raises her own gun to her eye. For all the bickering she and Jesse do, one thing that they can do together is play war games. She's kicked his butt in Call of Duty more times than she can count. Their father saw an opportunity and took them to a real shooting range. Their mother had objected, but she eventually caved. Beca had learned how to shoot a real gun; a plastic gun would be no problem.

One pull of the trigger and Beca's knocked over the golden cup in the center of the display. She celebrates with a little fist bump before she's nearly knocked to the ground by Chloe's hug.

Beca selects a dolphin with blue eyes that remind her of Chloe and bashfully offers it to the redhead. She politely declines a second hug; she has a different prize in mind.

True to her word, Chloe jingles her car keys and grabs Beca by the hand.

* * *

Chloe drives a bright purple Mustang and somehow, that doesn't surprise Beca at all.

("I almost went with yellow, but it would've clashed with my hair, you know?" Chloe informs her. "Like ketchup and mustard, only not so appetizing."

"Yeah," Beca says vaguely. Chloe has this effect on her, one that leaves her not knowing what to say as opposed to her simply _choosing_ not to say anything.)

Beca feels small and awkward in the passenger seat. It feels as though it was designed for someone twice her size. She slides and squeaks on the damn leather interior every time she shifts even a little. One of those air fresheners, shaped like a strawberry, hangs on the rearview mirror. Beca watches it vibrate and shake with every bump of the road.

Chloe's a good driver. Beca's not really sure what she expected. Her erratic behavior made Beca suspect that she was an equally crazy driver. She's proven wrong and Chloe Beale continues to evade Beca Mitchell's understanding.

"I drive Aubrey to school," Chloe explains, as though reading Beca's mind. "Both of my parents go to work super early in the morning, so I've been driving Aubrey to school since I got my license."

Again, Beca's left not knowing what to say. "That's nice." She wants to punch herself as soon as the words make their way out of their mouth. It's cringe worthy at best. The whole 'socializing' thing has never been Beca's strength in life.

To her credit, Chloe tactfully ignores Beca's awkwardness. "I just realized that I don't know where you live," she says. "You've been walking Jesse over to my place every day and I don't even know your address."

"It's just around the corner," Beca says. "Third house on the right. The one with the annoying little plastic flamingo in the front yard."

Chloe's laugh rings through the air. "The one without a beak?" At Beca's nod, she laughs again. "I know that house! I've driven by it like a hundred times!"

Beca raises an eyebrow, trying not to interpret that as stalker behavior. "This is it."

Chloe carefully pulls over and puts her car in park. "Here we are!"

"Thanks." Beca quickly hops out of the car and slams it shut behind her. Before she can run inside her house, she hesitates and turns. "Hey," she says, thrumming her fingers on the roof of the car, "thanks for the ride home. And everything else. I… had fun tonight."

Chloe's smile is both knowing, mischievous, and… predatory? For a moment, Beca wonders if she should be worried. But Chloe only winks and starts her car back up. "Goodnight, Beca."

"'Night," Beca says faintly. She waits until Chloe drives out of sight, suspecting that she's being watched in the rear view mirror.

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Beca randomly receives texts from Chloe. She updates Beca on what she buys at the grocery store, the latest drama on America's Next Top Model (her favorite reality show, apparently), and the most dramatic character death in the A Song of Ice and Fire books. Beca hardly ever responds, but the texts are usually good for a laugh.

She's hiding out at Starbucks to avoid her parents one afternoon when she receives the text that changes everything: _you're at starbucks, aren't you?_

"What the hell." Beca takes a quick glance around the coffee shop over her laptop screen. Seeing no sign of the redhead (which she doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed about), she looks back down at her phone and replies.

_yeah… why?_

She gets her response not a minute later.

_I'm on my way_

Beca thinks about responding but decides against it. Nothing she could say could stop Chloe from doing what she wants, she knows that much. She presses play on her music and returns her attention to her laptop. Not one day goes by where she's not thankful for the free wi-fi at Starbucks.

Five songs later, there's a tap on her shoulder and she pulls her headphones down to her neck. When she turns around, she's met with the grinning face of Chloe Beale. Her blue eyes are as bright as ever. Beca's sure that if this were a cartoon, they would be _sparkling_. It's disgustingly cute.

"I would've pulled your headphones off, but I figured that would've gotten me killed," Chloe says, brushing some hair behind her ear, "or at least thoroughly cussed out."

"A good assumption on your part," Beca says, shutting her laptop. "It would've been really awkward if your lady jam started playing in the middle of a Starbucks."

Chloe's smile grows impossibly wider. "Do you mind if I sit?" she asks, gesturing to the empty seat across from Beca.

_Yes._

"Go for it."

_Damn it._

* * *

"So, where's Jesse tonight?" Chloe asks, stirring her caramel frappuccino with her straw.

Beca cocks an eyebrow. "Really? That's how you start a conversation, by asking about my little brother that you babysit?"

"Okay, okay, fine," Chloe says, holding her hands up for peace. "What do you wanna talk about?"

Beca takes a long, hard look at the redhead sitting across from her. As hard as she tries, she doesn't understand Chloe Beale. It takes a special kind of person to persistently pursue someone who makes it clear that they want to be left alone. Beca doesn't know if it's more admirable or annoying. No one's ever put forth this much effort to just be around her before; she doesn't know what to make of it. She finally sighs and shakes her head. The right words weren't coming. "How'd you know I was here?"

It's not much, but it's something. Better than nothing.

"Where else does the average antisocial teenage girl go to be alone?"

Beca raises an eyebrow.

"I've seen you in here like, three times," Chloe elaborates. "You never really looked like you wanted to be bothered before, so I never said hi."

"So, why bother me now?" Beca flinches internally at how rude she sounds, but the redhead isn't fazed.

Chloe shrugs. "I was bored and I wanted company."

"I am 100% positive that you have better people than me to keep you company."

"You shouldn't assume things," Chloe instructs, sounding like Beca's least favorite teacher. "It makes an ass—"

"Out of u and me," Beca finishes. "Yeah, I know the saying, but I'm already an ass, so I figured I'd be safe with one little assumption. And I didn't take you for the "cursing" type." She emphasizes her point with air quotes, making Chloe laugh. "Jesse speaks very highly of you, Ms. Beale."

"Do you and your brother talk about me a lot?" Chloe asks, raising a single eyebrow. There's a twinkle in her eyes that Beca interprets as playful. Or maybe it's predatory again. It's hard to tell.

Beca goes for a shrug. Her chair creaks with the uncomfortable shift in her weight and her eyes drift down to the floor. "I'll never tell."

"Guess I'll have to figure it out," Chloe says around her straw.

"Because you know me _so_ well."

"I make it my business to know people," Chloe says with an air of sophistication.

The corner of Beca's mouth pulls upwards. "Then, why don't I know you?" she asks. She's hardly the popular type. She's shared several classes with people who never bothered to learn her first name. Beca Mitchell is virtually invisible at South High and that's just how she likes it. Having someone know this much about her is not only puzzling but suspicious as well. "Like, what do you do? Debate team? Christian club? You seem like the cheerleader type to me, to be honest."

Chloe's smile mirrors Beca's own. "Somehow, I feel like that's not exactly a compliment coming from you," she muses, smiling at Beca's nod. "I'm in choir."

Beca unsuccessfully tries to stifle a laugh.

"What?" Chloe says, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Sorry," Beca says, "it's just—it's pretty lame."

"Says the girl who did marching band her freshman year." Chloe's tone is teasing, but there's an offended look in her eyes that makes Beca regret her words. "Great uniform, by the way. Epaulets. Nice."

"Okay, okay," Beca concedes, holding her hands up for peace. "I'm sorry I said that. Choir is cool. And stalk much? What, did you look me up in your sophomore yearbook?"

"I might have." Chloe leans back, raises her cup to her lips, and winks. "Or maybe I _coerced _Amy into spilling all of your dirty little secrets."

"And that makes you _less_ of a stalker?" A hint of worry flashes in her eyes. "You didn't really talk to Amy, did you? Because if you did, then there's some serious stuff that we need to talk about and other stuff that you're going to have to pretend you never heard."

The wicked glint that appears in Chloe's eyes makes Beca regret her words yet again. "I didn't," Chloe says, "but now that I know that you actually have dirty little secrets…" She giggles and Beca knows that she's doomed. "Spill, Mitchell."

The next day, Beca walks Jesse over to the Beale household, just as usual. But this time, she stays long enough for Chloe to invite her inside.  
She almost regrets saying yes when Chloe squeals and pulls her into the house for a hug.

And that's how they begin.

* * *

**A/N:** Planning on having chapter 2 posted within the next few days. The wait shouldn't be long, but no promises. I hope you liked this!


	2. then

**Your Love is the Best Sound**  
**Chapter 2:** then  
**A/N:** So, it's been, like, five months since I posted Chapter 1. Sorry about that! I promise that the third and final chapter will not take that long to be posted. For now, I hope you enjoy Chapter 2 and it keeps you held over until the conclusion!

* * *

"Remind me why I agreed to help you again."

Chloe slaps at Beca's knees with a dish towel. "Because you love me and you owe me."

Beca rolls her eyes. She's perched on the kitchen counter, which adds significantly to her height. They're in Chloe's kitchen: granite countertops, chrome appliances, mahogany cabinets, and a sink the size of a small dog's bathtub. It's modest in a classy way but just fancy enough to let Beca know that this family has money. The fridge is adorned with crayon drawings (that Beca knows come from both Aubrey _and_ Chloe) held in place by magnets shaped like flowers. Sunlight floods in through the large windows. Baking supplies and ingredients cover the kitchen table.

"Okay, better question," Beca reprises. "Why do you have to bake cookies for choir? We're not even in school right now."

Chloe sighs impatiently as though speaking to a child with a short attention span. "I have vocal camp every Wednesday, Beca, and it's the sopranos' turn to bring cookies this week. We've been through this." She shakes her hand in disappointment.

A smile tugs at Beca's lips. "Right," she drawls, nodding. "How could I forget? It's the one day of the week where I don't get to see you." She puts on an exaggerated sad face. "And yet, I still get regular updates throughout the day of what new song Patrick learned on piano and the vocal exercises that you and Emma came up with. I resent you for forcing me to get a Snapchat, by the way."

"Snapchat is _glorious_."

"You do realize that it's basically an app designed for sexting, right?" Beca says, raising an eyebrow. "Target demographic is aimed at horny teenage boys who wanna ja—"

"Aubrey!" Chloe squeaks as her sister hops into the kitchen with Jesse on her heels. "Look, _Beca_, the children are here!" She shoots a glare at Beca over her shoulder before turning back to the kids with a bright grin.

Beca snickers as she hops off of the counter.

Aubrey looks up (though not by very much) at Beca with narrowed eyes. It's painfully obvious that she doesn't like Beca and pissing Aubrey off quickly becomes one of Beca's favorite hobbies. Chloe chastises her for it, of course, but that just makes it more fun. "Why do you have to be here?" she asks Beca in that annoying, squeaky voice of hers.

"Aubrey!" Chloe scorns.

Beca shrugs. "Just to piss you off, I guess," she says. "I feed off of people's negative emotions to survive."

Despite the upturned corners of Chloe's mouth, she nudges Beca with her elbow. "Shut up."

"You're lying," Aubrey says, not even sounding 100% sure.

"She does that a lot," Jesse sighs from his position on a barstool. He smiles when Chloe slides him a juice box, chuckling as she does so. "But that bit happens to be true."

Aubrey shoots him a disgruntled look. He raises his hands innocently. "I'll have you know that I hold Chloe's friends to a very high standard," Aubrey says, folding her hands on the countertop. She suddenly appears twenty years older, resembling a professional business woman.

"Excuse me?" Beca raises an eyebrow.

"_Aca_-scuse you," Aubrey corrects.

Beca turns to Chloe, gesticulating wildly, trying to mentally communicate _What the fuck?_

"Aubrey's really into a cappella," Chloe explains.

"As I was saying," Aubrey continues, "all of Chloe's friends must meet certain standards of mine in order for them to receive my approval. You don't meet any of these standards."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Dixie Chicks serious," Aubrey says, sticking her bottom lip out.

Beca shakes her head in disbelief. "Where the hell did she learn that phrase?" she whispers, leaning into Chloe's ear.

Chloe's face pales at the curse word. "Not in front of the children!" she hisses, swatting at Beca's arm.

"They can't hear me!"

"Cursing is one of the standards," Aubrey informs her. "That'll be one dollar for the swear jar."

Beca's eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. They have a fucking _swear jar_.

Biting on her bottom lip to keep her giggles in, Chloe turns to her sister and gestures to the living room. "Aubrey, why don't you take Jesse and watch some cartoons, okay?" she suggests. "The cookies won't take too long."

Looking smug, Aubrey saunters off to the living room and Jesse follows her like an obedient puppy.

"Your family is weird," Beca mutters as she watches them go. She walks to the kitchen table and begins examining the ingredients that they'll be working with.

Chloe laughs. "You haven't seen _anything_ yet," she promises. "Just wait until you meet my grandparents—you'd love them. They're that cute old couple who have old black and white photos of them in their teens. They just celebrated like their fiftieth anniversary or something. They got married when they were super young, like when they were twenty-one. I've done the math, believe it or not, and I'm _pretty sure_ that it was because my grandma was knocked up with my mom."

A puff of flour flies into the air as Beca chokes on a laugh.

The cookies come out two hours later, half of them burned and harder than rocks. The kitchen turns out a total mess and Aubrey scolds them while Chloe's mom only laughs and asks them to clean it up. They end up running to the twenty four hour grocery store to buy cheap cookies at eleven o'clock at night. It's an adventure and Beca realizes that she _really_ enjoys spending time with Chloe.

* * *

Beca's been hanging out with Chloe for one month when her name pops up in the Mitchell household. Her parents ask about this new girl that she's been hanging out with (new, as if there'd been someone before Chloe) and Jesse tells them all about Aubrey's pretty older sister who makes Beca blush a lot. Beca throws a pillow at his head as soon as the words come out of his mouth and her parents send her up to her room. She knows that they would've grounded her if they weren't so enthusiastic about her having a new friend.

It's not that Beca's ashamed of her friendship with Chloe, not at all. There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's just that she's not used to a friendship that's so _intimate_. Beca's had good friends before, but none of them ever clung to her the way that Chloe does. She's not even really clingy; there's just no better word in Beca's brain. They hang out a lot and they text and Beca finds herself missing Chloe every once in a while, but it's no big deal.

She's just never had _that_ friend who she can text whenever and always receive a response from. Chloe says "I love talking to you" and "I'm here for you" and Beca somehow never doubts that she means it. It's new and strange but really nice at the same time.

Jesse looks up at her with wide eyes during breakfast one morning. "Do you have a crush on Chloe?"

Beca chokes on her cereal and sputters, splattering the table with milk. She's thankful for the fact that her dad is at work and her mom is out shopping. "No," she says firmly. "I do not have a crush on Chloe."

He doesn't look convinced, but his face is always pretty blank, so Beca's never really sure. "Then why are you always hanging out with her?" he asks. His genuine curiosity is strange. Usually, he doesn't care about Beca's life at all. It's unsettling.

"_You're_ always hanging out with Aubrey," she shoots back at him.

He goes as red as the Power Rangers T-shirt he's wearing and his eyes lock onto his toast.

Beca narrows her eyes. "We forget this conversation ever happened. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

They shake hands and eat the rest of their breakfast in silence.

* * *

School is two short weeks away when Beca's dad decides to begin working at Barden University. He announces this at dinner one night and Beca couldn't care less until she sees the look on her mom's face. She's slowly turning red, jaw locked, and Beca realizes that her dad hadn't discussed this with Beca's mom.

Jesse can sense their mom's anger and tears begin to form in his eyes.

"Come on, Jess." Beca shoves her plate away and takes Jesse's hand. Neither their dad nor their mom try to stop them as Beca walks Jesse out the front door and slams it behind them. As they make their way off the porch, Beca can already hear her mom's voice rising to a yell and she speeds up her steps.

They go to the park. Beca used to always take him there after school. She'd push him on the swings and he'd tell her about his day. Beca grew out of this habit when she hit freshman year of high school. They haven't gone to the park together in nearly two years.

Somewhere on their way to the park, Jesse climbs onto Beca's back, sniffling and wiping his nose on Beca's hoodie. She doesn't have it in her to scold him for it. She does her own laundry, so it's fine.

"Why do mom and dad fight so much?" Jesse mutters into Beca's hair.

Her chest heaves with a deep sigh. There are several answers that she could give him—many of them being sarcastic—but she settles with, "They're just having problems right now, Jess. It'll get better soon." It feels so, _so_ fake to her and she hates herself for lying when she doesn't know any more than he does, but it stops his sniffles.

"Can we get ice cream?" he asks timidly.

Beca huffs out a laugh. "Sure thing, kiddo."

"Beca?"

They've reached the park and Beca nearly stumbles at the sound of Chloe's voice.

"Aubrey!" Jesse jumps down from Beca's back and runs to the playground where Aubrey is swinging from the monkey bars. Chloe is standing by, arms outstretched to make sure that her sister doesn't fall.

"Hey, weirdo," Beca says, stuffing her hands in her pockets and walking over. "What are you doing here?"

"Aubrey and I always come to the park before dinner," Chloe explains. "We used to walk our dog here all the time. What about you?"

"Um…" Beca glances over at Jesse for a moment. He's smiling and laughing as he attempts to pull Aubrey from where she's hanging on the monkey bars, but the tear stains are still faint on his cheeks. She lowers her voice and says, "My parents are…having a disagreement at the moment."

Chloe nods, looking over Beca's face carefully.

Beca hasn't told Chloe about all of the problems that her parents have been having these past few months, but she has made multiple remarks about how often they fight. Chloe's a friend—a _good_ friend—but Beca's not quite ready to tell her everything. Chloe hasn't pushed the subject either, and Beca appreciates that.

"Well," Chloe says, her tone light, "their loss is our gain."

Beca grins. Her chest swells with something that she can't place a name to and the weight in her stomach eases a bit. She hesitates for only a moment before asking, "Do you want to come with us to get ice cream? I know you said you're about to have dinner, and I don't wanna spoil your appetite, but—"

Chloe places a hand on Beca's arm. "We'd love to," she says reassuringly, "as long as you're buying."

"It'd be a good trade-off if we could borrow your car?"

"You got yourself a deal."

Aubrey ends up making some remark on how they can't possibly eat ice cream before dinner, but Chloe calls their parents and gets the green light from them. Beca watches Chloe speak in a hushed voice while she's on the phone, hearing the words 'parents' and 'fighting' before turning away. She swears that her arm is nearly jerked out of its socket when Chloe takes her hand and yanks her towards the parking lot. Aubrey does the same with Jesse.

Beca looks between herself and her little brother, knowing deep down that they're both _whipped_.

* * *

_i'm dying,_ is the text that Beca receives in the middle of doing her homework. She doesn't even have to look at the name to know who sent it. She selects the contact and hits the 'call' button. "Aside from the obvious, what's wrong with you?" she drawls.

"That is no way to treat a sick person," Chloe scolds through a stuffed up nose.

Beca smirks. She leans back in her chair, her homework already forgotten. "So, you're sick. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Come take care of me?"

Beca looks down at her unfinished homework. It's a Saturday afternoon. Jesse and Aubrey are in the kitchen with Beca's mom, making lunch. The little twerps are giggling and yelling at each other. SpongeBob SquarePants is blasting loudly from the living room, despite the fact that no one seems to be watching. Her entire calculus study guide is due on Monday and it's not going to do itself.

"I'll be there in ten."

...

"Eat up, weirdo." Beca tosses Chloe a thermos, warm from its contents. She drops down onto the sofa, not objecting when Chloe places her feet into her lap. Then, Beca grabs the remote and changes it from The Notebook to America's Next Top Model. "That's better."

Chloe's draped across the sofa with a fluffy purple blanket cocooning her. Her stuffed dolphin from the carnival is tucked into her arms (Beca smiles against her will when she sees it). Her hair is pulled into a messy bun. She cracks the thermos lid open and takes a long whiff. "Chicken noodle soup," she notes, clearly impressed. "I didn't know you knew how to cook."

"I don't." Beca reaches into her bag and offers her a silver spoon. "But, I know how to work a can opener. I told my mom it was for you and she literally jumped at the chance to do it herself. She must really like you because when I'm sick, she won't even get me a blanket."

Laughing, Chloe scoops a spoonful into her mouth. The pleased moan that she emits makes Beca blush a bright red all the way to the tips of her ears. "You are my favorite person ever right now."

"You mean I'm not _always_ your favorite person ever?"

Chloe laughs, but she's cut off by three violent sneezes in a row.

Beca flattens her palm against Chloe's forehead, her fingers brushing away red hair. "Well, you're not quite dying," she says, "but you've definitely got a fever."

"It's the flu," Chloe groans. "I feel like shit."

"That's a dollar in the swear jar, you potty mouth."

Chloe smacks Beca on the arm before cuddling into her side. Her chin rests not uncomfortably on Beca's shoulder, the warm breath from her nose fanning away the hair that falls on Beca's collarbone. "Shut up," she sighs, "or I'll have to kick you out to the dog house."

"I thought you didn't have a dog?"

"We used to." Chloe pulls out her phone and shows Beca a picture of a tiny Beagle. "Lucy died last year. She got really sick and we had to put her down before it got worse."

There's a rustle at the front door as it opens, a jumble of keys clanging and shoes scraping the floor.

"Look who's home," Chloe says as her smile grows. "Hi, mama!"

The door shuts with a dull slam. "Hi, Chloe!"

"Rest your voice," Beca reprimands softly, lightly bumping Chloe's thigh with her knuckles.

"Hush." Chloe waves Beca off. "Mom, Beca's here!"

"Oh!" Chloe's mom waddles past the living room and into the kitchen, her arms full of groceries. "It's so nice to see you, dear." She sets her groceries down on the kitchen counter and wipes her brow.

"It's nice to see you too, Mrs. Beale," Beca says. She shifts as much as she can with Chloe practically glued to her side to look over her shoulder into the kitchen. "Do you need any help with your groceries?"

"Oh, it's alright, dear." Mrs. Beale waves her off, resembling her daughter just enough to make Beca do a little double-take. "And call me Karen, Beca. Mrs. Beale is my mother-in-law."

"Okay," Beca says, half-laughing. She's never called a friend's mom by a first name before. It's one of the many firsts that Chloe Beale introduces to her life. Beca's been mentally keeping track, and it shouldn't surprise her at this point, but it does.

Karen stands on her toes to stack cans of tomato sauce in her cabinet. Chloe definitely inherited her height from her mom, but it's not like Beca can tease her for it. "Will you be staying with us for dinner, Beca?"

Beca stiffens. She bites her lip, looking to Chloe for approval and receiving a reassuring smile in response. There's a tug in her gut that tells her to say no, to run home where she's most comfortable, but something stronger keeps her seated next to Chloe. "Um," she says, "sure—if that's alright with you."

"Of course it's alright!"

Chloe makes a delighted little sound and cuddles further into Beca's body.

It's Saturday, which is, apparently, Taco Night at the Beale household. Dinner consists of chicken tacos with homemade salsa and guacamole that Chloe and Beca help Karen make. Aubrey sits across the table from Beca, fixing her with scrutinizing eyes throughout the whole meal. It makes Beca squirm until Chloe gives her knee a supportive squeeze.

That tug in Beca's gut is gone and she smiles.

Beca goes home later and tries to find a way to work So Contagious by Acceptance into her newest mash-up. She doesn't even regret it when she spends the whole afternoon the next day finishing her homework.

Three days later, Beca comes down with the flu. She texts Chloe, laying all of the blame on her. A mere fifteen minutes after she sends the text, Chloe replies with a picture of herself in a slutty nurse costume, captioned with only a winky face. Beca feels her entire body heat up, but it's probably just because of her fever, right?

Right.

* * *

Beca's always known that their high school had a choir. She was in band, after all, even if it was just to be done with her required one year of art. Band and choir had a sort of rivalry despite the fact that they're treated equally as badly by the school. Chloe's given Beca _several_ lectures on how the music program's funding is complete shit in favor of sports, particularly football. It's pretty much the only thing that Chloe complains about and it amuses Beca.

Their first choir concert of the year, the one that they prepare for over summer, is in a week and Chloe's invited Beca

("You don't have to go!" Chloe assured her the moment that Beca's brows pulled together in a frown. "I don't want to pressure you into doing anything that makes you uncomfortable, but…it'd really mean a lot to me if you came."

Beca had paused for a long moment before she said, "I'll think about it."

It was obviously not the answer that Chloe wanted, but she had smiled nonetheless.)

"So, are you going to go?" Kelly, Beca's mom, asks her. She stands at the stove, stirring a pan of spaghetti sauce in her stained apron. Her hair is tied up in a messy ponytail and Beca can see the grays sprouting in her roots.

Beca refrains from rolling her eyes as she sets her pencil down. She's sat at the kitchen table, attempting to do her homework, and she had offhandedly mentioned the concert. Reluctantly, she mutters, "I don't know."

"Why?" Kelly inquires. "You're allowed to go, just as long as you get all your homework done beforehand."

"I know, it's just—" The lead in Beca's mechanical pencil snaps as she puts it back to her paper and she grunts a little in frustration. She runs a hand through her hair. "I don't know if I want to go," she says hurriedly, hating herself a little bit once she's said it.

Kelly puts the lid on her pan. She takes off her apron and pulls up a chair next to Beca. "What's wrong, sweetie?" she asks patiently.

Beca gives her a look because her mom's always known her better than most people, that is, until Chloe came long. Talking about _Chloe_ with _her mom_ may just be one of the most uncomfortable things ever.

"Beca _looooooooves _Chloe!" Jesse sings as he skips through the kitchen, jumping around the kick that Beca aims at his crotch. She scrambles out of her seat to chase after him, but her mom pulls her back into her chair.

"Leave him," Kelly says, slapping Beca lightly on her wrist. "Now, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing!" Beca groans. She sinks down into her chair. "I just—I don't think I'll be comfortable at some choir concert. I won't know anyone, sitting in an audience of a bunch of choir parents. It's not that I don't want to support Chloe or anything, but I just don't know if I'm up for it."

Kelly nods and her eyes crinkle with a smile. "I can't imagine it would be too different from one of your band concerts," she reasons.

"It's been over a year since I've been to a band concert," Beca points out, "and even then, _I was performing_."

"I could go with you if you want."

Beca internally groans at the thought of spending a Wednesday night at her high school, watching a choir concert, accompanied by her mom. "I don't think so, mom."

Kelly laughs and pats Beca's hand. "I think I get it," she says. "If going to the concert will make you anxious at all, then just explain it to Chloe. She loves you, so she'll understand. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She stands and makes her way back to the stove. "Come on. It's dinnertime."

Sighing, Beca sinks back down into her chair and slams her textbook shut.

* * *

Beca fidgets with the zipper of her jacket with her free hand. She's standing awkwardly in the middle of an aisle of the school's auditorium. The lights are just coming back on and people are shifting around her, either making their way toward the exit or chatting idly.

Her occupied hand is holding a bouquet of flowers. Chloe had mentioned irises once, so Beca bought purple irises. Chloe's family had picked her up. Karen had smiled when she saw the flowers and Aubrey had frowned.

The concert was about as long as Beca remembers her band concerts being. It was comprised of mostly solos and Chloe sounded amazing. It occurred to Beca that she's never actually heard Chloe sing before despite all the talking about choir she does. Chloe also looks stunning in a deep red dress with white polka dots and purple lace.

Especially as she runs towards Beca and throws herself into Beca's arms.

"You came!" Chloe says with Beca's hair in half of her mouth. She pulls back and Beca's never thought of her as more beautiful.

"I did." Beca laughs before clearing her throat and thrusting the flowers forward. "And I—um—these are for you."

Chloe takes the flowers and her smile softens. "You got me irises."

Beca inspects a spot on the carpeted floor and scuffs at it with her shoe. "You sounded really great," she mutters. She panics for a moment, thinking that she hadn't said it loud enough and that she'd have to say it again, but Chloe's kiss on her cheek reassures her of otherwise.

It also sends a _weird_ thrill through her entire body and simultaneously makes her feet feel like lead and her head light.

This is new, but Beca's not complaining.

* * *

After the choir concert, Chloe sings around Beca all the time. They watch Disney movies together and Beca learns that Chloe knows the soundtracks of Hercules, Tangled, Pocahontas, The Lion King, Beauty and the Beast, and The Little Mermaid by heart. She has them, plus several more, downloaded on her iPod. If it were anybody else singing around Beca as much as Chloe does, Beca would've punched them in the face long ago.

(Beca still wonders if Chloe had been too insecure around Beca to sing before she'd heard her at her concert. The thought gnaws unpleasantly at the back of Beca's mind.)

Chloe sings while she washes dishes, while she does her homework, while she drives. She has a _really_ nice voice and Beca almost considers asking Chloe to lend her vocals to one of her mixes before she realizes that it's a stupid idea.

It's been about two months since the incident at the park. Beca can't forget considering that she still hasn't cleaned the pants that Aubrey "accidentally" spilled her strawberry ice cream on. Wondering whether or not Chloe remembers makes Beca's palms sweat. She wipes them on a different pair of pants, sitting on Chloe's couch while Chloe looks through her cabinet for another movie for them to watch.

No turning back now. "Hey, Chloe?"

"Hmm?" Chloe brushes her hair out of her face and turns to look at Beca. "What's up?"

Beca puffs her cheeks out in a long exhale. Her knee won't stop jiggling. "There's something that I need to talk to you about," she says flatly.

Something about the look in Chloe's eyes changes. "Okay," she says. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Beca says, a little too loud and a little too bright. She winces at herself as Chloe settles down next to her on the couch. "I'm fine, but… You probably already know about this, and I would've told you sooner, but I just never really felt ready. I trust you and I don't think you need me to tell you how big of a deal that should be for you."

Chloe smiles, laughing slightly, and gently wraps one of Beca's hands in hers.

"My parents fight a lot," Beca says finally and it's easier than she anticipated. Chloe has that effect on her. "It's been this way for a while. It upsets Jesse a lot, so I guess I'm actually grateful to Aubrey for being such a good friend to him lately. Don't—don't tell her I said that."

"Oh, of course not," Chloe says sarcastically, laughter bubbling up in her words. "Wouldn't want my little sister to know that you actually have feelings."

Beca pinches Chloe's side and Chloe retaliates by tickling the bottom of Beca's foot. They derail for a moment while they try to contain their giggles. Beca pins Chloe's wrists to the couch to keep her under control.

There are always beautiful moments like this with Chloe, where Beca can laugh and be laughed at without feeling insecure. Chloe is the safest place that Beca's ever had in her life. Beca's convinced that the amount of time she's spent laughing with Chloe is more time that she's spent laughing in the rest of her life combined. Her parents no longer comment on how she'll have prominent frown lines once she ages. Instead, they ask her what funny thing Chloe's said when Beca smiles at her phone.

(Chloe's the only person who Beca texts and her whole family knows it.)

It seems to Beca that Chloe is just one big, beautiful moment in her life.

Every moment ends and Beca feels like she's falling when she's forced to come back to reality.

"Anyway," Beca continues, once her laughter ceases, "that's why I never invite you over to my house and why I don't like to talk about my parents. That's—that's all I wanted to tell you."

For a little while, Chloe says nothing but looks at Beca with a gentle gaze. Slowly, she shifts in her seat and reaches out to wrap her arms around Beca's neck. Her hand rakes through Beca's hair and her lips press a kiss to the side of Beca's head. "I'm glad you could tell me," she murmurs.

"I'm glad I have you to tell," Beca says back. "Thanks for—for just being you."

Chloe hums a little bit and waits for Beca to pull away. "Anytime, Beca." She looks over her shoulder at her movie cabinet. "So, would that make this a bad time to suggest watching The Parent Trap?"

Beca laughs. It's a little sad, but it's also very happy and it makes her heart ache in a way that's anything but unpleasant. "I'll allow it," she says, "but only because there's no singing in it."

* * *

Beca watches Chloe with baited breath and her bottom lip between her teeth. Her fingernails anxiously pick at a loose thread on her jeans. She reaches up to fiddle with her headphones before pulling her hands back down. Her headphones aren't there; they're on Chloe's head, her head that is bobbing along to the music coming from Beca's MP3 player.

They're at Chloe's house because Beca never likes to have Chloe over at her place. Her parents would ask all sorts of uncomfortable questions that she would rather avoid. She's over at Chloe's enough to satisfy her parents, but they still ask questions that are easily deflected by headphones over her ears.

Chloe's been begging to hear Beca's mixes for weeks, and Beca eventually caved.

They were out for ice cream together and Beca had commented on the Taylor Swift song playing over the radio. She was working on a mash-up between We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together and Here's to Never Growing Up by Avril Lavigne and Chloe had put on her best puppy dog eyes.

Beca caved.

_Whipped._

Before long, Chloe is standing from the bed, headphones still plugged into Beca's MP3, and dancing around the room. Her shirt isn't low cut, but Beca's face still heats up watching her. Without any warning, Chloe's grabbing Beca and tugging her to her feet, fruitlessly urging her to dance with her.

"And you haven't even had any of your _jiggle juice_," Beca muses once the song ends and the headphones fall from Chloe's ears.

"I love it!" Chloe shrieks, a grin splitting her face.

"You like it? I mean—you really like it?"

"Beca, this is _amazing_." Chloe takes Beca's hands in her own and looks her right in the eye. "You're amazing."

The heat in her face is back. She smiles anyway and squeezes Chloe's hands. "Thanks. That really means a lot."

Chloe's eyes are really bright and really close and Beca has to fight one instinct to step back and another instinct to get closer. Chloe reaches up and brushes some of Beca's brown hair out of her face, soft fingertips barely sliding over her forehead. "Do you ever sing anything?" she asks. "Have you ever made a mix with your own voice?"

Beca scoffs. "No," she says, shaking her head. "I don't sing."

"You can't or you just refuse to?"

"I don't," Beca repeats with a tone of finality and Chloe doesn't push it. One day, she'll get past all of Beca's walls, but for now, she'll work slowly. She's just thankful that a wall doesn't go up whenever Beca pulls away.

"I should get going," Beca says, grabbing her jacket from Chloe's bed. "My parents are threatening to limit my "_Chloe time_" if I don't pull my calculus grade up before the end of the semester."

Chloe smiles, small and secret. "I'll walk you home," she volunteers.

Beca snickers. "Keeping chivalry alive, Beale." She nods in approval as she shrugs her jacket on. "Are you gonna start holding doors open for me now? Offer me your jacket when I get cold?"

"Only if you pay up with a kiss at the end of the night, Mitchell," Chloe retorts with a wink.

Beca scowls. She can never beat Chloe.

* * *

Christmas break is a godsend. Beca is stressed out about upcoming AP testing, Chloe is stressed out over college applications. They spend nearly every minute together once they go off for break. This lasts for only four days when Beca's parents make an announcement.

"_Becaaaaaaa_," Chloe moans from her facedown position on Beca's bed, "you can't leave me."

"Chloe." Beca attempts to shove the redhead over. "Dude, come on. You're laying on my clothes. I have to pack!" She slides her hands under Chloe's torso and attempts to roll her over to no avail. "You are _so_ not making this easy for me," she grumbles.

Chloe tosses her red hair out of her face, somehow glaring and pouting at the same time. "_You're_ the one who's leaving," she says, crossing her arms across her chest. "This was supposed to be the best Christmas ever and you're leaving."

"Not my choice," Beca reminds her for what feels like the millionth time. "It's not my fault that my grandma's a hundred years old and wants to spend the holiday with my dumb family. My parents think it'll be a good _bonding experience_." She shivers in disgust. "I'm not looking forward to me leaving anymore than you are."

"But do you really have to leave tomorrow?" Chloe whines. "We haven't even been off on break for a whole week and now you're being whisked off to some glamorous family vacation—"

"I'm going to Texas, not Hawaii."

"—and I won't even be there to see your face when you open my perfect present for you."

Beca freezes. "You got me a present?" Heat creeps up her neck in anticipation as she sits down on her bed.

Chloe smiles wickedly and crosses the room to dig through the bag that she'd brought with her. "Wait, wait, wait, close your eyes!" she commands.

"You're giving it to me now?"

"Well duh, I deserve to watch you open it. Now, close your eyes!"

Chuckling in disbelief, Beca obeys and waits. She feels the air around her face whip around, almost like someone's waving their hand in front of her face, and she snaps, "They're closed, you weirdo."

"Alright," Chloe says, still sounding slightly suspicious. "You can open your eyes in three…two…one!"

Beca opens her eyes and jumps back a little when she finds her present an inch from her eyelashes. She blinks, eyes going wide when she realizes what the two rectangle slips of paper in Chloe's hand are. "Concert tickets?"

"David Guetta," Chloe says, bouncing with excitement. "March 27th, you and me, front row at the kickoff of his tour in Atlanta."

"No way." Beca takes the tickets into her hands—they're _real_—and stands. "You did _not_, Chloe."

"I did! Love me?"

"Love you lots!" Beca throws her arms around Chloe and hugs her tight. She grins through the red hair caught in her lips. "Thank you so much, Chloe. You're the best."

"Don't you forget it, Mitchell." Chloe winks as she steps back. "Come on. You've gotta pack for that luxurious family vacation of yours."

Beca groans. "Don't remind me."

* * *

All things considered, Beca's had worse Christmas Eves. Her parents refrain from fighting in front of their family. Jesse has a good time playing video games with their tween cousins and Beca occasionally joins in to kick their butts. Their aunts and uncles don't pester her with questions about what colleges she plans on applying to due to the fact that her cousin just graduated with college. He gets bombarded with questions of when he's going to start working and Beca laughs on the sidelines.

Her grandma, the woman who just beat breast cancer, is too old to care about _anything_. She offers Beca a sip of her beer and they toast to nothing.

Beca wakes up Christmas morning and finds the guest bed next to hers empty. Jesse must already be up and waiting eagerly by the Christmas tree. The clock on the wall tells her it's 7:30, meaning that it's 8:30 back home in Georgia. She grabs her phone from underneath her pillow and sends Chloe a text: _Merry Christmas._ She wonders if Chloe's opened her present yet.

Before long, Beca can hear Jesse and her other cousins running around the living room. They're giggling and, judging from the dull thuds that she's hearing, wrestling.

"Come _on_, Beca!" Jesse shouts from the hallway. "It's Christmas! Get up!"

She's about to respond when her phone starts vibrating. Chloe's face appears on her screen and Beca grins as she answers the phone call. "Hello?"

"BECA MITCHELL."

Beca laughs. "I take it you like your present." She swings her legs over the edge of her bed and runs a hand through her tangled hair. "Merry Christmas, by the way. You know, people typically open with that on December 25th—"

"YOU GOT ME A DOG."

"Well, that's awkward. I thought I got you a cat."

Chloe can _feel_ Beca's grin over the phone.

"He's a Labrador-Border Collie mix. He's only three weeks old, so he's not ready to have all of his shots yet, but I talked to your parents about this like, two weeks ago, so they arranged everything like his dog license and stuff. He's all yours."

"You kept this from me for two weeks and my parents knew about it?!"

"I can be sneaky when I want to. You underestimate my abilities, Chloe Beale."

"I leave for college next year," Chloe reminds her, as if Beca could forget. "You do realize that, right? I can't bring a dog into a dorm with me!"

"Well then, I guess you'll just have to come home every weekend to take care of him," Beca says nonchalantly. "He'll miss you and everything, so…"

"Oh, _he's_ the one who's going to miss me?" Chloe's beginning to get the feeling that Beca had a hidden motive in getting her a dog. She laughs and shakes her head. "Beca…"

"Do you like it?" Her tone of voice is uncertain, but Chloe can see right through her.

"I love it," Chloe says. "I love him so much. Beca, he's the sweetest thing ever! Thank you so much! I love you."

"Love you, too," Beca says, smiling. "So, what're you gonna name him? Do me a favor and don't give him a stupid name or anything, okay? I don't want the little guy to be the laughing stalk of the dog park or something equally stupid."

Chloe hums in thought and Beca _knows_ that she's going to regret saying that.

...

Eddard Stark-Mitchell-Beale's name doesn't fit on his nametag, so Chloe settles for Ned. His eyes are brown but just as big as Chloe's. He runs into glass doors and pees in his own bed, but Beca _still_ muses that he often acts more intelligent than Chloe. They train him together and take him on walks together; he essentially becomes their baby. Beca will never admit that out loud, of course, but that doesn't mean Chloe won't say it behind her back.

Both Ned and Chloe give Beca several kisses when she returns from her trip. So, Beca really can't complain.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! The writing for Chapter 3 is around 60-70 percent done, so I'll have it posted as soon as possible. Sorry again for not updating for five months!  
You can find this story and future updates on my tumblr: .com!


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